


State of Grace

by maniac_pixie_dreamgirl



Series: Red [2]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 10:18:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maniac_pixie_dreamgirl/pseuds/maniac_pixie_dreamgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fuck, he had to do something worse than the Gavroche Incident. What did he do? Killed her cat with a frying pan or what?</p><p>“Would you be so kind to explain where the fuck you have been today?” she asks, her words dripping with hate.</p><p>Enjolras gasps and swears under his breath. He understands everything now.</p><p>“Grantaire’s exhibition! I totally forgot!!! Shit! Shit! Shit!”</p><p>Eponine gives a smile, moistened with venom, and enters his room without an invitation.<br/>“ You forgot? No biggie, why would you remember? It was just an exhibition of your friend’s most precious paintings. Nothing really important, right? Not to someone as significant as you, Your Majesty.”</p><p>College AU. Thirteen friends. Five love stories. One cat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	State of Grace

Enjolras rubs his eyes. He’s editing the last paragraph of his term paper that is due tomorrow. It’s way past 2am and Enjolras feels the fatigue taking over him. He hasn’t slept a wink for nearly two days now. There is just so much to do. Most of it isn’t even connected to his studies- he is preparing another protest. A big one this time. Lamarque, his personal idol, is coming and plans to deliver one of his famous speeches about equality. Enjolras can hardly wait, he knows it’s going to be amazing. He’s going to make sure it’s going to be amazing even if that is the last thing he’ll do. He cares about it so much and the pressure is starting to take its toll, he’s cranky and moody, losing his temper more often than usual. His friends are avoiding him a little bit, too scared he’ll lash out on them.

Enjolras bites his lips, he doesn’t like himself when he is that way, so caught up in work that Les Amis are too scared to talk to him. He promises himself to make it up to them, when the heat of the preparations is gone.

But right now he needs some sleep, a lot of it actually. He closes his laptop and looks around. Only then does he realize that neither Jehan nor Combeferre are home. It is unusual for them to be out at this hour on the weekday, so Enjolras decides to call them. He reaches for his phone only to find it turned off- battery dead. He wonders for a minute how that is even possible (he’s pretty sure he charged it in the morning. Or was it yesterday?), but then a small sound from behind the wall catches his attention. He turns around and sees Eponine standing in the hallway.

She looks furious. Enjolras blinks a few times and backs away a little bit. He tries to remember the last time she was that angry. Eponine rarely gets angry, especially with him. But she is definitely fuming now- her lips are trembling and her eyebrows converged just above her nose. And the look in her eyes… if looks could kill… well, Enjolras is very glad they can’t. He still can’t remember when she was ever so cross with him. It must have been a long time ago, probably when he made Gavroche, her little brother and a computer genius, hack into the private website of the company that uses child labor in their factories. Poor kid slept in the next day, missed his math exam and Eponine nearly scratched Enjolras’ eyes out when she found out.

Enjolras waits for her to say something, but she is busy trying to murder him with her mind powers.

Fuck, he had to do something worse than the Gavroche Incident. What did he do? Killed her cat with a frying pan or what?

“Would you be so kind to explain where the fuck you have been today?” she asks, her words dripping with hate.

Enjolras gasps and swears under his breath. He understands everything now.

“Grantaire’s exhibition! I totally forgot!!! Shit! Shit! Shit!”

Eponine gives a smile, moistened with venom, and enters his room without an invitation.

“ You forgot? No biggie, why would you remember? It was just an exhibition of your friend’s most precious paintings. Nothing really important, right? Not to someone as significant as you, Your Majesty.”

Enjolras wants to protest, - to tell her how much work he had to do today, how much stress he is under- but Eponine eerily resembles Medusa now, so he just looks down at his feet. (His toes weren’t always that crooked were they?)

“Why would you even go there?! What is one stupid art thing to someone who has to worry about saving the world?!” Sarcasm in her voice is ringing like bells.

“I’m sorry ‘Ponine, I didn’t mean to...”

„IT’S NOT ME, YOU SHOULD BE SAYING SORRY TO!!!!” There goes the yelling. “Grantaire is at every single one of your stupid meetings, on every strike and manifestation! He didn’t miss any of those fuckin’ demonstrations, even if that meant getting his face rearranged by police, homophobes, or even both. And you couldn’t be bothered to come to ONE vernissage! As if the world would end if you did something for the one person who does everything for you. EVERYTHING!!!”

Enjolras feels he’s going to be sick. Eponine is right. She’s so fucking right. The blood is drifting from his cheeks. He failed Grantaire. He promised him he would come, and he fucked up.

„I’ll definitely be there,” were his exact words. Guilt flooded him like a tsunami.

„How... how did he react?” He whispers, burying hands in his hair.

„What do you think? He got dead drunk! He was hoping you’d show up! Till the last minute he was hoping!!! Do you know how many texts I’ve sent you? About a hundred! Everyone was there! Even Combeferre, and he’s got an anatomy exam on Friday.”

Enjolras sits on a chair and buries the face in his hands. He feels like smacking his head against the kitchen table. He can swear that his insides are being dipped in liquid nitrogen right now.

“I need to apologize to him.”

“Good luck with that. He left with some random guy. His phone is turned off. Besides, if I were Grantaire I wouldn’t talk to you ever again. No wonder Combeferre and Jehan haven’t slept here in a few days, you can be such a dick sometimes.” Eponine squints her eyes some more and heads to the door.

Enjolras throat is narrowing to the point of breaking. He can’t breathe.

“Oh, the exhibition was a success; people were literally killing themselves over the paintings, thanks for asking.” She says smiling ironically.

The door slams so hard his furniture trembles. Enjolras sighs and rests his head on the table. Suddenly the sleepiness is gone. Trying to ignore his conscious, he charges the phone and makes himself another (eighteenth today) cup of coffee. He proceeds to call Grantaire, but as Eponine said, his mobile is turned off. He feels his heart sinking, suddenly heavier than any other organ of his body. Enjolras drinks his coffee in one go and looks at his phone. He has 22 new text messages- most of them from Eponine- quick angry texts, questions entwined with threats. Some of them are from other friends, Combeferre and Courfeyrac mainly.

_What time will you be there?_

_Courf_

_Dude, where are you?_

_Marius_

_R U coming to Taire’s exhibition? Everyone is freaking out, I’m worried_

_Jehan_

_Why aren’t u here? R u dying out of pneumonia right now? I told u 2 wear a scarf!_

_Joly_

_Is everything okay? You should be here by now_

_Combeferre._

_I’m going to fuckin’ kill you_

_Eponine ___

__With every text, Enjolras feels worse and worse. There’s an empty pain in his chest and a bitter taste of guilt appears on his tongue. There’s one message from Grantaire. Only one._ _

__Sent way before others._ _

___Hey Busy Bee,_ _ _

___Don’t forget about my exhibition today. World won’t collapse if you take one evening off._ _ _

___R._ _ _

______ _ _

____Enjolras closes his eyes and drops his phone. His heart shrinks, making room for the ever-growing pile of shame. Grantaire didn’t text or call him afterwards. He didn’t ask him where he was or why didn’t he come. He didn’t remonstrate. And for Enjolras it was the worst thing- that Grantaire could accept the fact that he didn't show up with such easiness. Enjolras is a bad friend and everyone knows that._ _ _ _

____He plays with his phone, sliding it on the kitchen counter for a while. He tries to think up some excuse, anything that will make him any less of a douchebag, but he just can’t. He screwed up and there’s no point of denying._ _ _ _

____He sends a text:_ _ _ _

_____I’m sorry. Please forgive me._ _ _ _ _

_____E._ _ _ _ _

_____There is no reply. ____ _ _ _

______✴✴✴_ _ _ _ _ _

______„Did you talk to him?” asks Enjolras as soon as Combeferre and Jehan enter the room._ _ _ _ _ _

______It's Saturday, three days after the opening of Grantaire’s exhibition and Enjolras is starting to get desperate. Grantaire is ignoring his calls, all of them. He’s not answering his text messages, emails, comments on his Facebook wall and on skype. Yesterday Enjolras went to Mussain, hoping to talk to him face to face, but Musichetta said that Grantaire took a few days off. Enjolras wanted to sit and wait, in case Grantaire would change his mind, but Eponine threw a bag of coffee grains at him._ _ _ _ _ _

______Enjolras is starting to get tired of this situation. He should be organizing the protest, not worrying about some drunkard. This is ridiculous._ _ _ _ _ _

______„ I did,” answers Jehan, „He doesn’t feel like talking to you, Enj”_ _ _ _ _ _

______„ He’s still angry, isn’t he?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“ Not angry... more like disappointed.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______„ Aaargh.” Enjolras buries hands in his hair with frustration. „ I don’t know what else to do. Do you know I waited in front of his flat for three hours today? He just ignored me.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______„Maybe he wasn’t home?” offers half-heartedly Jehan._ _ _ _ _ _

______„Oh believe me, he was home. I heard Lily Allen telling me to fuck myself very, very much, through the walls.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______„ He probably didn’t hear you knocking then.”says Combeferre calmly. „I need some coffee. Medicine is a bitch, I’m pretty sure all of my exam’s answers were A.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“ You’ll pass, you always do. If you’re making coffee, make one for me too.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______„ No way. No more coffee for you. Have you seen yourself lately, you look like shit”_ _ _ _ _ _

______And it is, in fact, true. The serious lack of sleep is slowly destroying Enjolras’ body- his hands are shaking, his pupils are dilated and on his forehead there are some deep wrinkles- marks of the hours he spent worrying too much._ _ _ _ _ _

______“ You need to go to bed. Few more hours without sleep and you’ll end up in a looney bin.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______„How can I sleep if he’s not answering my calls?!”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“ You need to give him some time, mate.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______„It’s been 3 days Ferre...”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Then maybe, you should consider showing him how sorry you are”, Jehan suggests, as he sits on a chair and starts unbraiding his hair._ _ _ _ _ _

______„ What do you mean by that?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______„ Have you seen this episode of Friends, where Chandler closes himself in a shipping crate to make Joey forgive him?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______„ I hate sitcoms, you know that.” reminds Enjolras, mildly irritated with the way this conversation is heading. “Do you want me to get inside a box?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______„ No! I want you to show him how sorry you are! Do something big, like a Grand Gesture. _Grant _Gesture!”___ _ _ _ _ _

________Enjolras purses his eyebrows.He’s not entirely sold on Jehan’s idea, but Combeferre seems to agree with the poet. And Enjolras trusts Combeferre, and his judgement, completely._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________„ Okay, but how do I do that?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________„ You need to figure that out by yourself, I would start by going to the actual exhibition. It’s open till tomorrow. On Sunday they are having an auction, most of the paintings are already claimed, but I think there are one or two left. I had no idea Grantaire was so talented.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Clearly, Enjolras hadn’t either._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________✴✴✴_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He goes to the gallery, first thing in the morning, not quite sure what to expect. He’s seen Grantaire’s sketchbook a couple of times, so he knows how talented his friend is. But those were sketches - messy, quick, doodles filled with an essence of Grantaire. They were dynamic, vivid and wrapped in a very blunt truth about life itself. But Enjolras knows enough about art to presume that the paintings will be completely different. It’s a whole other medium after all._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________And as soon as he enters the room he knows he’s right. Right and wrong at the same time actually. Because, even though there’s no way he could have guessed that that’s how Grantaire’s paintings looks like, now that he has seen them, he can’t imagine that they could be any different._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________They are so, so beautiful. Big, bold and brave. They aren’t realistic like his drawings are, they bear more of an expressionist vibe._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Enjolras looks at every single one of the paintings and the emotions are overflowing; he is amazed, proud, touched, and a million different things at the same time. His eyes are glued to the art surrounding him and he feels like he doesn’t deserve to even be in the same room as those masterpieces. They are just so out-there, with their vibrating colors, texture that’s nearly exploding out of the frames, the bold lines and brush strokes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Enjolras forgets how to breathe, he is so stunned- they are so Grantaire, it’s like he used his personality instead of paint to make them. Enjolras eyes keep getting drawn back to one particular painting. Something about it speaks volumes. It’s not very big, not very flashy, more subtle than the others, more abstract. As if Grantaire had painted a feeling. Suddenly Enjolras chest is too small for his heart. He reads the title. It’s called “The state of Grace”. He knows what his grand gesture is going to be._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________✴✴✴_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The room is filled with people. Rich, snobbish people, exactly the kind that makes Enjolras cringe. It’s why he is so happy to see a familiar face, until he realizes it’s Eponine. Normally he would be glad, but Eponine, like Grantaire, still hasn’t forgiven him for not showing up at the opening and was throwing random, heavy objects in his direction every time she’s seen him . (Her aim is surprisingly accurate)._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“ What the fuck are you doing here?!” She screams and some people turn around to look at them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“ I’m here to buy a painting. What are _you _doing here?”___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“ Making sure that Grantaire’s paintings won’t get sold to some asshole like you. He didn’t feel like coming, so I volunteered.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“It’s going to be a fun evening”, says Enjolras with a sigh._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“ You bet it will”, she snaps and makes a face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________They move to stand closer to the paintings._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“ Oh shit is that…?” Eponine’s eyes widen. “Why is he here?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Enjolras follows her gaze to the tall, good looking man in an expensive suit._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“ Who’s that?”, he asks her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“ That’s the git Grantaire went home with that night.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Enjolras feels his skin burning up. There’s a needle in his heart, pricking it time after time, making his pulse race. He looks at the guy again. Is he really that handsome? His nose is big, and, Enjolras didn’t notice that before, his mouth is a tiny bit crooked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“ I don’t like him”, he says._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________There’s amusement flickering in Eponine’s eyes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“ You don’t even know him.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“ Neither do you, and you called him a git.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“ I call everyone a git. Why don’t you like him?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“ I don’t know, he seems awful.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“ R says he’s not. Especially between the sheets.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________There goes the needle again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Shut up ‘Ponine, the auction is starting”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________✴✴✴_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Eponine is nearly pissing herself out of laughter and is clutching her chest like she’s afraid her ribs are going to fall out. She even makes a not-very-lady-like snort once or twice._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“What’s so funny?”,asks Enjolras. He’s trying to sound annoyed, but that’s not really working._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________She manages to stop laughing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Firstly, you paid a thousand quid for a painting Grantaire would give you for free had you asked. Secondly: You paid so much, not because you felt remorseful, but because that asshat you are jealous of wanted to buy it too…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I am not jealous!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“… Yeah right, keep on telling yourself that. Thirdly: You spent a thousand of pounds that you don’t actually have. So now you’ll need to sell your car, your flat or one of your internal organs. Personally I recommend a heart, since you clearly are in no need of one.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“The source of the feelings is in the limbic system, not in the heart, if that’s what you were indicating. And don’t worry about the money, I’ll manage. By the way, can you pay me back that 200 quid you owe me? Looks like I’m gonna need it after all.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Eponine's wild protest earns her two more disdained looks from the real connoisseurs of art._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“And Fourthly: Didn’t you always say that spending heaps of money on art when the children in Africa are starving is not only stupid but also very vain?” Her whisper is very theatrical, “you also once said that the place of art should be in the gallery not in the hands of private collectors.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Enjolras wants to say something witty, but for the moment, is in complete loss of words. And he thought she never listened to him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Eponine sends him a self-satisfactory smile and proceeds to admire Grantaire’s work._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The rest of the auction goes without any interruptions. While Enjolras is finishing up some legal commitments linked with buying the painting, Eponine waits for him in the hall. Her anger didn’t disappear completely, but it has been significantly diluted. Maybe she won’t try to shave his head while he sleeps anymore._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Enjolras smiles holding a coat for her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“ Eponine have I told you how stunning you look today?” He asks without any hidden agenda._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“ No. And don’t even try to. I’m still trying to hate you, Mister” she says, but there’s nothing hateful in the way she puts her arm inside his._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________✴✴✴_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________'State of Grace' is now hanging in the living room of Enjolras’ apartment, and he keeps on glancing at it every now and then. He just loves it so much._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________It’s their Monday meeting time, Joly and Bousset are occupying the couch, Marius is making tea and Jehan just went downstairs to photocopy some flyers. Combeferre and Courfeyrac are discussing the plan of Lamarque’s visit and Enjolras is just about to join in when the door opens._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Enjolras heart stops. It’s Grantaire._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He’s wearing the watch I bought him, thinks Enjolras and stands up from the chair to greet his friend, but the look in Grantaire’s eyes stops him in his tracks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Grantaire takes up his usual spot in the corner and takes a sketchbook out of the bag. Suddenly his eyebrows boost up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________He noticed the painting, thinks Enjolras. He noticed the painting and everything will go back to normal now, we will forget about… ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Grantaire stands up from his chair and leaves the apartment without a word._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Enjolras mouth drops. This is not the reaction he was hoping for. He sends Combeferre a confused look, but his best friend just shrugs. Neither of them has any idea what that was about._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Grantaire comes back after a few minutes with an envelope in his hand._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________He passes it to Enjolras after the meeting._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“A thousand pounds.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Enjolras looks at him dumbfounded._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“ That’s how much you paid for my painting, right? I’m paying you back”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“ What?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“ I don’t want your money. Actually the gallery took half of it, but…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“ Half?! Are you kidding… Why are you acting like that Grantaire?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“ Just take the money, Enjolras”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“ No.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________The room is silent for a minute and Enjolras notices that everyone else has fled to the kitchen. They are alone in the room._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Grantaire sighs and begins to pace around the room, he is clearly exasperated._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“ Why did you buy it?” he asks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Enjolras’ answer is simple. “I liked it.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Grantaire’s eyes tell him it’s not the right answer. He tries again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“ I’m sorry Imissed your opening, it’s just I was really tired and with Lamarque coming to London next week, there’s so many things to do… I just forgot. I feel like shit, I’m sorry, R.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“ I know, I’ve read your texts. Why did you buy the painting?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________This question seems to be pivotal to Grantaire so Enjolras thinks for a while before answering._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“ It touched me. I have no idea how to explain it, but it did. It’s like I was meant to have it. It fits with me.” He is aware of how stupid it sounds. Grantaire eyes light up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“ I would have given it to you for free.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“ I know. But if you did, I wouldn’t appreciate it as much as I do now.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“ Best things in life are for free.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“ But the most appreciated ones come with a price.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________And suddenly this conversation isn’t about art._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“ So, will you forgive me?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Grantaire nods and Enjolras practically beams. They don’t hug, the don’t even shake hands, but they don’t really have to. It’s enough for both of them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“ I thought you weren't coming today” says Enjolras, gathering up empty mugs._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“ Have I ever missed a meeting?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Although Enjolras knows Grantaire hasn’t meant it that way, the aftertaste of guilt appears in his mouth._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“ I’m glad you came.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“ I’m glad you bought my painting. It would look wrong on anyone else’s wall.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________And Enjolras feels the same way._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> So since my beta is MIA right now I asked my friend Tom to check my grammar. He has no idea what OTP is or who Les Amis are, so sorry if they are a little bit OOC. And sorry for any mistakes, since there's probably plenty.  
> And I know it is a little bit slow, but bare with me, the good part is coming soon.  
> As you probably noticed I'm naming all the chapters after Taylor Swift's songs, I have no idea why, I am not her biggest fan (I SWEAR) , but they just fit.  
> You can follow me on tumblr if you want my url is sundance_girl.  
> LOVE YOU ALL xxx


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